Weary Soul
by myguyssamanddean
Summary: A waitress takes care of John when he comes into town.  It is told from the waitress's point of view.


I saw the man sitting along in the booth. He looked lost and alone. I went over, introduced myself and took his order. I liked the way his voice sounded, even though he called me "m'am". He had deep brown eyes that looked so sad, even when he smiled and handed me the menu.

When my shift was over, he was still there, staring at the darkness. He'd finished eating long ago. He'd paid the bill and it was like he just needed a place to rest.

"You look tired," I said sympathetically. "How about you let me take care of you?"

He didn't exactly look surprised. He just said," My name is John."

"My name is Trina." I stood up from the booth and laid my hand on top of his. He looked up to face me. "Just come with me."

He nodded and stood.

I led him to my car and there was no conversation on the way to my home. I opened my door and led him to a kitchen chair. He sat down obediently and started to take off his boots. "No," I stopped him and sat him upright in the chair. "I can do that. Why don't you tell me about yourself."

"Not much I can say," was his reply.

"I figured as much," I said as I put his boots to the side. "That's okay with me. Law troubles?"

He slowly nodded. "Should I leave now?"

"Why?" I asked him. "Trouble with the law doesn't make you a bad man. If you were a dangerous man, I would have sensed it. I figure you been on the road for too long and could use a good rest."

I helped him out of his coat and hung it in the closet. I happened to see his ring and asked if he was married.

"I was. Mary was killed long ago," he twisted the ring around his finger.

I stood behind him and started to rub his shoulders. "You've been burdened with too much for too long, John. I'm here to listen to whatever you have to say. It all stays right here. Do you want to tell me about Mary?"

Xxxx

"She was so spirited," he began to let the words flow. "She could be mad as hell as me one minute and madly in love with me the next. She didn't follow anyone. She was just her."

His muscles started to relax under my hands. I started to unbutton his flannel shirt. "Just keep talking," I urged him.

"When she had opinions, they were definite. If she wasn't sure where she stood on something, she was tolerant of either side. She always cared about others--always. She'd help a stranger on the street and make their day without her even knowing it. I don't know if she ever knew how easily she touched other people's lives."

"Arms up," I pulled his T-shirt off. After a minute or two of massaging his shoulders and neck in silence, I asked, "She must have known how deeply she touched your life."

"I think she did," he got lost in remembering. "We had a good home, a happy home. I remember how excited I was when she told me she was pregnant, seeing my son for the first time, and how I felt the same excitement with my second son, even though we'd been though it before.

It was different, how I saw her after she became a mother. I saw her one way while we were dating, and it changed a little when she became my wife. But, the biggest change came when she became the mother of my children. It was a gift that she gave to me. Something so precious. I don't know how it is that you can love someone so that your heart feels like it will burst, but that is how I felt."

"I knew you were a good man, John."

"Mary brought out the best in me. After she died, well, I felt like I faded."

I kept moving my hands over his shoulders, upper back and neck. His hair was a little too long. He hadn't shaven in awhile. I wanted to be able to help him with his sorrows and pain, even though just for a night.

I walked around to face him. "She was a part of you and she was taken away. It's only natural that you'd have emptiness where she used to be. Memories can only do so much to fill that space."

His eyes showed that he knew I understood. "Now, just let me take care of you. I'm going to bring you a towel and you're going to give me your clothes so I can wash them. I'll run you a bath and help you with your hair. I'm not into peeking, but you can take the towel in the bath if you want. It has been awhile since you've been cared for or had the time to take care of yourself."

I came back with a towel and then went to check on the bathwater. I returned and picked up his laundry. "You really don't have to--" he seemed ashamed that he was taking the help that I was offering.

"I didn't have to do any of this," I interrupted him. "I wanted to. I'm offering a weary soul a place to rest for a night. I plan on sending you back out into the real world in better shape than you came to me in."

He just nodded.

Xxxx

Once in the bath, I took my time with his hair. He seemed to relax as I did so. I gave him another towel as I left to put the laundry in the dryer.

In the bathroom doorway, he looked cleaner, but just as lost. I took his hand and let him into my bedroom. I turned down the sheets. He sat down on the bed and closed his arms around my waist, thanking me for taking the time to help him. I ran my fingers though his hair, noticing how soft it was. "You are very welcome, John. Now lie down so I can cover you up,"

I pulled the covers up and kissed his forehead like a mom would do. "Are you ready to go to sleep, or do you want to talk some more?"

As I listened to him talk about things I would never understand, I sat in a chair by the bed. My part of the conversation wasn't much, just a nod here and there. He'd bottled up so much that it all just came pouring out. I didn't judge him, I just listened. Once he mentioned the yellow-eyed demon, I just accepted it as part of what he was carrying around with him. I didn't ask questions. I didn't need to understand him totally to listen to him. And, he needed someone to listen.

John told me about his regrets, his sons, and hunts of creatures that I couldn't even imagine. I just let him talk for a long time.

When he stopped, I asked him when the last time was that he'd talked to his boys. It had been over six months. I encouraged him to call them.

"Right now?" he was shocked at the suggestion.

"Right now," I replied. "They need to hear that you're okay. They need the connection you used to have with them, no matter how old they get."

He dialed his cell phone and I went to make myself some hot chocolate. When I heard talking stop, I went back in.

"How'd it go?" I asked as I entered the room.

"Rough. I couldn't tell them much about me. I just made sure they were alright. I told Sam I was sorry to hear about his girlfriend getting killed. They were all worried about how I was and where I was. I think I left them frustrated but at least I they know that I'm alive. For now that has to be enough."

"You've done all you can. No one can ask you to do more," I noticed his eyelids getting droopy.

"I wish I could talk to Mary," he started to sound sleepy.

"Pretend I'm Mary," I offered. "Get what you have to say out in the open. It'll help."

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Mary," tears came to his eyes. "I'm sorry the boys grew up like they did. I tried to do the best I could but I still feel like I failed you. I love you and miss you, Mary. I just hope you can forgive me for my shortcomings." He broke down in sobs.

"John," I spoke gently," Mary would be proud of you and the boys because you did the best you could. She knows you tried to rescue her because that's the kind of man you are. She knows that you lover her and miss her because those things never change. What you've been carrying around as a confession, isn't. It is what Mary already knew or felt. You can let it go now, John. You did your best."

I wiped away a tear from his face and told him goodnight.

That night, John didn't dream of running or chasing or searching. He slept the sleep of the innocent, secure in the knowledge that Mary had always understood.


End file.
